Wyatt (tornloyalty) wrote in summerview, @ 2019-03-25 13:25:00 |
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It was late by the time Wyatt breezed into town and he only just managed to secure himself a room at the Satyr but looking for a job and a place to live was next on his agenda right after he stopped off and got himself some beers. Hell, he deserved a drink after that drive, and so what if he'd be drinking alone, wouldn't be the first time.
He bent at the waist and reached into the fridge to latch his fingers around a six pack of beer though immediately and rather suddenly straightened up as his nose picked on a rather distinct scent. One he knew but one he hadn't smelt in a very long time. Shit, shit, shit He had told the pack that he'd find the person that the scent belonged to but he hadn't meant it, it had been a good excuse to get the hell out of dodge but as luck would have it he'd landed in the sanctuary city that she'd apparently taken refuge in. Well, shit. Wyatt closed up the fridge and clad in a pair of dark blue denim jeans, thick heavy boots, dark t-shirt and hair looking very much like he'd just woken or somebody had spent too long with their fingers in it he decided heading this off at the pass was the best approach. Hopefully she'd let him get a word in before she bolted. Bree had been feeling ~classy as of late, so instead of hanging at the beer wall, she was hanging at the wine wall, arms folded across her chest. She'd spent ten minutes there before realising that she didn't actually give a single shit about red or white or fucking pink, it was all just fermented grape juice anyway and fuck she wanted liquor. Moving around to browse the bottom shelf liquor - since she couldn't afford the more expensive (admittedly tastier) shit - and her fingers snagged around the neck of a bottle of bourbon when she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. In a single second, before she'd even seen him, her whole world narrowed down into that moment. She was fifteen paces away from the door, half that if she bolted. The shelves here were pretty sturdy but if she needed to she could probably yank it down to make a distraction before she shot back to her place with Jayati. She hadn't unpacked properly, though it had been tempting. She could just grab her shit and leave. But as she stood, bottle in her hand almost brandished like a weapon but not quite, to see Wyatt standing at the end of the aisle between her and the door, she just... froze (which, as a reaction, pissed her the fuck off), wide eyed and afraid, hardly daring to breathe, backing up a little, stuttering step by step. Yep, there she was. In the flesh. Looking very much like a deer caught in headlights which in hindsight wouldn't help her if Carter ever caught up with her again. If he could Wyatt was going to try and help her get past that kneejerk reaction so she'd stand a better chance of getting the fuck away from the asshole that had ruined her life. He placed the beer he was carrying down on the ground so he had his hands free, hands which were large in nature, but moved in a way that was non threatening and went so far as to have his palms facing her. "It's okay, Bree," he murmured lowly and softly, "I swear I'm not here to take you back to him. This-" he said with a gesture between them "is not what it looks like." Bree let out a breathless laugh, feeling her back hitting the cold door of the fridge that some of the beers were being kept in. That made her jump and the bottle fell from her fingers, smashing on the floor and splashing over her boots, liquor trickling down her bare leg where it had splashed up her calf. "Looks pretty fuckin' suspect to me, Wyatt," she managed, proud that there was only a tiny shake in her voice. She couldn't get past him, not with him between her and the door. She'd seen him move; he was faster than her and she wouldn't be able to get out. Her heart was beating fast, roaring in her ears. "I ain't goin' back to him." "And I wouldn't want you to," he assured her, eyes following her nervous movements and he knew she was a second from bolting. He could catch her, he knew he could, but he wouldn't. Wouldn't exactly help his cause any. He hadn't made any attempt to move closer to her because he needed her to climb off the ceiling in order for him to be comfortable that he could do that, Wyatt had some experience with skittish wolves. "Then why're you here?" she asked, nudging the broken glass away from her boot carefully, the bourbon puddling at her feet. She didn't take her eyes off him as she ran her thumb up the edge of her calf, chasing the splashes off her skin and wiping her hand on the denim of her shorts. There were a few sanctuary cities, she knew that. Of all the sanctuary cities he went to, he had to come to hers? No, she wasn't that naive. Even if a small part of her wanted to point out that Wyatt had helped her. He'd been the major reason that she'd been able to get away that first time, even if she'd been on the run ever since, without him- without him she'd have probably swallowed molten silver. And he'd always wanted to try and get to know her, she remembered that, too, Carter had just forbidden the other male wolves especially from getting to know her. "Does he know where you are?" Wyatt pressed his lips into a thin line and exhaled a slow breath as he reminded himself that this right now was a completely normal reaction to coming face to face with a wolf associated with her abusive ex but he'd had a very long drive so he wasn't in the best place, mentally, for this. "I'm here 'cause I left," he explained. "Told them I'd find you and bring you back to him but truth is I used that as an excuse to get the hell away from them, from him, from all the fucked up things that the pack now represents." He searched her expression. "You might not believe what I'm saying but if you listen to my heartbeat and breathing you'll know I'm telling you the truth. Nobody but me knows where I am." Bree didn't move from where her back was pressed against the glass, the cold digging into her skin sharply like an ache but she used it to ground herself, the same way she used to use her nails in her palms. She could barely hear anything over the roaring of her own heartbeat in her ears, the way her chest was too tight to get a breath in but she closed her eyes, one hand lifted to tell Wyatt not to come any closer, as she tried to narrow down her senses. It was hard; the buzzing of the lights overhead, the soft sounds of the radio playing behind the counter, the bored gum-snapping of the attendant. The fly on the ceiling that was flying in low, lazy circles around the trap that had been set out for it. Underneath it all, though, she could hear the steady and strong beat of Wyatt's heart, the mostly-steady in and out of his breathing. Liars - even the best ones - were given away by their pulse. But... even if it was true, could she stay? Slowly, she opened her eyes to look at him and felt herself sliding down the glass until she was crouched on the floor, adrenaline leaving her in a rush, hands covering her face. Fuck. Wyatt to his credit had made no move to step closer or reduce the space that separated him from Bree as he knew that would be the straw that broke the camel's back. He hadn't intended on coming face to face with her and of all the sanctuary cities he had to go and pick the one she'd found, happy coincidence? He waited, just letting Bree feel him out with her senses, until it would seem she eventually believed that he wasn't here to drag her screaming and kicking back to Carter. And then she just sort of puddled and Wyatt edged that much closer but did it in such a way that she was aware of where he was at all times because he'd already spooked her enough for one lifetime. "Breathe," he coached softly as he came down into a crouch in front of her. "Just breathe." Bree's fingers pushed into her hair, sweeping it back from her face - or most of it anyway, long loose strands slipped out from her fingers to cover her face anyway and when the move seemed pointless she just dropped her hands to her knees again. Bourbon stung in the air, she wasn't sitting in it, thankfully, since that would have been interesting to explain to Jayati when she got back, and she idly realised she'd have to pay for the bottle she broke and however many she ended up walking out of here with so she could just drink late into the night. "'m breathin'," she rumbled, but there was no heat behind it because her chest did feel tight, like a vice had locked around her ribcage. "Fuck I just-" she looked up at him through her lashes and hair, eyes wide and turbulent. "I- 'm sorry, Wyatt." Wyatt gave her a soft reassuring smile in response to her apology before he just shook his head. "It's okay, I get it. Hell, if I was in your position I would've done the exact same thing." He searched her expression. "But honest I ain't here to take you anywhere, Bree." "If you want I can leave town, tonight," he offered. "If you were in my position you'da been outta that door," she pointed out softly, tucking her hair behind her ear and then lacing her fingers together, breath catching again. His presence was overwhelming, similar to Sam's but different. Somehow more, but she supposed that was because she knew Wyatt a little better, and Sam was - ultimately - a gentle soul. Wyatt, she knew, had sharper edges. She shook her head, "I- ain't the mayor of this place," she offered, though it was hard to push the words out of her chest. Perhaps if he was here, Carter wouldn't look for her here? If Wyatt said she wasn't here, then he'd just move on, go somewhere else, forever. Maybe he'd give up one day. Maybe someone would stake him in the brain with a silver dagger and he'd just crumple into a heap on the floor with dark spider-webs across his face as poison laced through his system. God, even after all this time, after everything he'd done, the though of him being killed made her stomach clench. "'m not about to chase you away." "American football tackle to go right along with my running," Wyatt answered with a smirk. He let out a breath he hadn't been aware he was holding when she admitted she wasn't about to chase him off. "Alright, as long as you're sure. You were here first after all." Which was important to a wolf, territory was still that, territory. He pressed the flat of one hand on the ground and used that to help himself to come down into a seated position in front of Bree, legs outstretched in front of him as he began to pick up some of the shattered glass that had formerly been a bottle. "Didn't think I'd see you again." Bree watched him as he eased himself down onto the floor, how his legs easily just stretched out in front of him, and that action alone had half placed her between them. She flexed her fingers around her bare knees and let her gaze track to his fingers as he picked up piece of glass and unwound herself a little to do the same. The lower quarter of the bottle was still in one piece, so she started dropping smaller shards into it. "That was kind of the point of runnin'," she pointed out dryly, carefully thumbing the edge of a larger piece of glass before dropping it into the bottle. "Figured a lot of you woulda been glad to see the back of me anyway." Because from the way Carter had put it - and she knew he was a liar but he'd manupulated her for such a long time - she wasn't all that liked by the pack because she'd refused the gift he'd given her. Because she'd acted like a spoilt child, instead of a grateful adult. Wyatt shook his head. "Wasn't like that and you oughta know by now that not everything Carter says is truth or even half of a truth. He lles better than a con artist working their latest job." He retrieved a couple more pieces of glass that littered the floor and dropped them in to join the others in what was left of the bottle. "Pretty sure something's wrong in his head." Bree's grip faltered on a piece of glass when he said Carter's name, tightening around it until it punctured her skin and she hissed, dropping it with a clatter. A few drops of her blood mixed with the bourbon that was slowly spreading in the direction of the back room, away from the two of them where they were on the floor. Stuffing the glass back into the bottle, Bree pulled her hand close to herself and scowled at the cut to her palm and fingertips. When would she stop reacting like that to his name? When would she just get over it? "He had a good- shit, almost ten years of my life," she pointed out sadly, "some of his shit sticks." A frown creased Wyatt's brow when he smelt blood in the air and he tracked it back to Bree who was clutching her hand close to her before he nodded. "May I?" He extended his long fingers towards Bree with his palm once again facing towards her in a show of vulnerability because she could see he was holding nothing in it. "Ain't arguing with you there." "Just can't believe I was so stupid," she muttered, lower lip between her teeth before she conceeded, holding her hand out for Wyatt to see, blood welling in her palm and beading along her index and forefinger. She flicked her gaze from her hand to his, then to his face, "Y-yeah." Wyatt took a hold of her hand in his own much more calloused one and turned his attention to where the cut was. "It ain't deep, the cut that is. Should heal up nicely but I'd say it would be worth cleaning it 'cause I ain't exactly sure if liquor store glass is the most hygienic out there." He glanced up at her through a dark strand of hair. "Carter's a real piece of work. Sucks people in and it's scary how much people buy into his bullshit." Bree held her breath as his fingers curled around her hand and he leaned forward to look at her palm. She hadn't really been that worried about it, she'd had worse over the last few years. Hell, she'd had worse under Carter's 'care'. She snorted. "Pretty sure an infection ain't gonna knock me on my ass anymore," she drawled, her own accent being drawn out of her a little more just being around someone whose was stronger. She met his eyes, other hand twitching slightly but she stayed where she was, with his hand curled around the back of hers, his skin warm, and she just shook her head. "It ain't even that I just-" she blew out a breath. "I don't know. Ain't really- I mean I've talked about him." And she hadn't. She could barely think his name on some days without her stomach turning. "Been just keepin' to myself." She'd been alone for a long time, now, and though she would say she was used to it, she wasn't. "Just 'cause it doesn't don't mean you shouldn't get it cleaned up," Wyatt pointed out before he ripped a small piece of material off his t-shirt and used that to wrap up Bree's hand. "Carter's an asshole," he said simply and plainly, speaking blunt honest truth. "Ain't nothing he said was right and not everything he says is gospel." Being alone wasn't something Wyatt was used given that he'd been part of a pack since he was five years of age so it was definitely an adjustment period. Bree's eyebrow lifted in a sort of 'really?' look when Wyatt ripped his t-shirt and wrapped it around her hand. There were first aid kids everywhere and the pharmacy was just down the road, they could have walked there, but her lips twitched up into something approaching a small smile at the overblown-ness of the gesture. "There's a pharmacy three doors down," she told him, "now I owe you a new shirt insteada five bucks for a bandage and some cleanin' shit." She caught his fingers before he drew away and squeezed his hand gently in thanks before she got to her feet, figuring that he would follow her a moment later, unconcerned at the large expanse of skin that she had on show as she got to her feet. "I- and I know he- I know. I'm just dumb enough that it keeps comin' back to haunt me." Wyatt shook his head as he too got to his feet and proceeded to tower over Bree. "Don't worry about it. I got plenty of shirts." He stuck his hands into the back pockets of his jeans and hunched his shoulders up towards his ears. "It's gonna. Not something you can just get over so I think still feeling messed up by it is fair." He reached up to scrub a hand through his hair. "Lemme get you another bottle considering you only dropped it 'cause you saw me." Bree - to her credit - didn't shrink as Wyatt stood to his full height but she did lean back against the cool glass again, letting the chill ripple across her skin. She watched his body language, how someone so tall and imposing could look so... unthreatening was a mind fuck, if she were honest. But wasn't that one of the things that had tripped her up with Carter? He hadn't looked like a psycho but he was. "You don't gotta, Wyatt," she protested, trying not to think about if he was there to take her away just how fucked she was at that moment. If he had been there to take her away, she could have been in a trunk by now, since she'd reacted so fucking badly. "Hey now," Wyatt said with a shake of his head as he shifted to open up a nearby fridge and snagged on a bottle that matched the one she'd dropped. "My mama raised me right I'll have you know." He wiggled the bottle before tipping his head in the direction of the cashier. He stooped by his discarded beer and collected it up. Wisely, Bree refrained from making a crack about his momma being part of the pack he'd just escaped from (unless that had changed, too) and just held her hands up in surrender, following behind Wyatt as they headed over to the cashier, picking at the edges of the dark fabric that were curled around her hand as he paid for their drinks. "You stayin' at the Satyr?" she asked after they hit the cool night air, taking a deep breath as the breeze brushed past her and back towards the door that Wyatt was stepping out of. "'s not a bad place but everythin' gets a little close after a while." Wyatt had an easy southern charm about him that got the otherwise bored and surly looking cashier chatting and wishing him a good night. “You can say that again.” Wyatt offered the bottle to Bree. “Pretty sure I’m sharing space with a vampire and an Incubus.” Bree took the bottle and snorted, “Yeah, that’s likely. Lotta folk just settle there. I had to move out, too many people in my space.” Which, it wasn’t really her space but she hadn’t been able to handle it regardless. At least where she was now she had an entire floor. She knew at some point she would have to start looking somewhere else; couldn’t rely on the kindness of strangers forever. She screwed off the cap and lifted the bottle to her lips, “Just ain’t found somewhere to call mine yet. Everythin’s so damn expensive.” She hardly hesitated before she held the open bourbon out to Wyatt. Wyatt took the offering and lifted it to his lips where he took a slow even pull before it was being held out to Bree to take back. “Yeah, if I’m gonna stick around I’m gonna have to find a place to call home. And a job.” He shrugged his shoulder. “Baby steps. I just got here after all.” Bree curled her fingers around the bottle again and tipped her head, leading the way down the street to a smaller shop where she could grab something to clean up her hand with, since she wasn’t sure that t-shirt was much more hygienic than liquor store glass. “Plenty of places hiring.” Wyatt glanced around as he was certain he wasn’t being followed but it never hurt to be safe. Carter was capable of anything after all. He pushed off and fell into step beside Bree, long legs carrying him in an effortless pace. “Pretty sure I saw an auto shop which’ll be perfect considering fixing cars is what I do.” Bree had noticed Wyatt glancing behind them and suppressed the twist in her stomach. Instead she just took another pull of her drink and hoped Jayati wasn’t patrolling. Street drinking was probably frowned on. It was why she tended to go to the beach. “Yeah, they ain’t gonna say no to an extra pair of hands, for sure.” He’d look into that first thing tomorrow morning. Wyatt couldn’t not do anything. That wasn’t him. He had to be doing something because he’d always been that way. If he couldn’t get a job at the shop in town then he’d go to Atlantic City and see what the hiring opportunities were like there. “Even if they do I always have AC.” He glanced to his right for a moment as somebody passed them that smelt distinctly like fire. “Not sure the shit my dad taught me about an engine is worth shit to anyone but me, so I’m a waitress.” It was an okay job, the pay was fine and Marie was a good manager but it rankled her more often than not. She would rather be doing something more practical, with less people. She saw him turn his head again, “What?” Wyatt nodded in the direction of the departing brunette. “Guy smells human but also like fire.” Gifted human he figured. “Yeah? Where do You waitress?” She turned her head to look, taking half a second to appreciate the retreating view. She didn’t know him, but if she had to guess he was the new-ish masseuse at the spa. “Don’t know him,” she admitted. “Kinda avoided gettin’ to know anyone really, was never sure how long it’d be safe for me to stay.” She pressed her tongue against her teeth and took another pull of her bourbon, thumb dragging over her lower lip as she offered the bottle again. Hey, he paid for it. “Place called Boudin. Not normally my scene.” “Makes sense,” Wyatt concluded. He took the bourbon and took a further pull, this one more impressive than the last. “But it’s a lonely life. Take it from somebody who is used to having people around him.” Now he was alone but better that than being associated with the pack even if that pack still had his actual blood relations. The bottle was held out. “Boudin? That sounds awful fancy for a small town like this.” “Safer than puttin’ down roots only to have to run again,” Bree commented, taking the bottle back by the neck, fingers catching the edge of Wyatt’s as she did. “Besides, I’ve been on my own for a long time now, even when I was with you guys, it-“ she frowned, cut herself off. “You get used to the loneliness.” She was just waiting for that to happen. That last full moon had been a testament to how much she actually hated being alone, waking up as she had done had been harder than she’d wanted it to be. She chuckled dryly. “There’s two places fancy as all shit here. Fair bit of pretentiousness for a small town but that’s what you get when fuckin’ everyone here is a hundred.” “I don’t think I ever will,” Wyatt admitted softly, shoulders hitching and hand reaching up to tug at his ear. “But that is a concern for another day.” He was a pack creature, had been since he’d been turned at five, it was in his blood. He snorted. “Age ain’t everything.” Bree felt her expression soften at the quiet admission but turned away hopefully before he caught the look on her face. Cap screwed back onto the bottle, she pushed the door open to the small corner store and went straight to where the first aid supplies were. Nothing compared to the clinic of course but that was in the other direction. She moved though here easily, having walked these steps multiple times. “There’s a lot of wolves here,” she told him. “I’m sure you won’t be alone for long.” She added a moment later, muffled because she had a thin cardboard box between her teeth that had bandages in it, “it ain’t everything no but you’d be hard pressed to believe that shit surrounded by all these people who lived through the damn plague or whatever.” Wyatt nodded his head as he trailed after Bree, the pair rather comical looking given the differences in their height with varying degrees of chaotic energy. “Hopefully not.” He would do it alone if he had to but that didn’t mean he wanted. Not when he knew the value and importance of pack, how if it was right it made you feel like you belonged. “I’ll take a hard pass.” His lips slid into a smile. “I got bored in history class.” She dumped the bandages, tape and antiseptic spray on the counter, along with the bottle and rummaged out her wallet, almost daring the guy behind the counter to say something. Wisely, he didn’t, so when he rang up the items she paid and picked up the bag by the handles, bourbon tucked nicely into the plastic bag too. “You’ll- uh- y’know, fit in fine and shit.” Better than she was, at any rate. “Don’t know if there’s any packs around but there’s a fuck-ton of wolves.” She would know, she spent most of her moons defending her small scrap of territory. She glanced up, mirroring his smile, “History was a class I always skipped.” But she’d been a shocking student. Happened when you were dumb as a rock, she figured. “School was bullshit anyway.” Wyatt did much the same as the guy looked between them and seemed sense ran strong in this town as he chose to keep his mouth shut. “I might seek them out. Let them know I’m not here to invade their space. Seems the polite thing to do.” Territory was important after all. “Yeah, I didn’t exactly enjoy it. Just wanted to be out living life.” Bree lifted her shoulders, stopping at a bench and sitting down, bag between her thighs. Her hand was starting to smart a little now. “Awful nice of you,” she told him. “Seeing as how they keep to themselves mostly anyway and don’t seem interested in anyone but themselves.” He would probably have better luck anyway, but not knowing or trusting other wolves was another reason she kept to herself. She just didn’t know how to interact with them. “I spent most of my high school drinking behind the bleachers before I ran away to the big city.” Wyatt hovered for a moment before he took a seat beside her and reached for the bag of supplies. “This ain’t my first rodeo.” He wiggled his fingers to indicate that he needed her hand again as he unpacked the bag. He smirked. “Somehow I can see that.” He’d gone to school but hadn’t enjoyed it especially when kids who he could take down in seconds tried to push up on him. Oh he’d gotten into so many fights. Bree blinked as the bag was lifted from between her thighs and instead placed between them. “I was gonna just do it myself,” she told him, even as she leaned back and held her hand out again, the strip of cloth fully blood-soaked. Her eyebrow lifted again, in a challenge that was less serious than she meant for it to be. “Ain’t my fault school is bullshit.” And for whatever reason, she added, “Home wasn’t any better so leavin’ was my only option.” Of course almost as soon as she hit the big city she’d met Carter. They all knew how that ended. Wyatt just gave Bree a look before he unwound the strip of cloth and began to use the antiseptic spray to clean up the cut. She’d have to give it a proper clean when she got back to wherever she was staying but it would do the job for now. And eventually it would heal and it would be like it had never been there. Not like the bite mark that had turned him from human into wolf. That had definitely left a mark. “Well, world is yours to do whatever you wanna do with it ‘cause Carter has no idea where you are.” Her own bite mark was just visible under the hem of her shorts. “You say that, ” she breathed, watching him clean her hand up. ”I ain't so sure I'm gonna ever really feel safe.” “You will when he finally pisses the wrong person off and gets himself killed.” That was the truth. Carter couldn’t keep doing what he was doing without rankling somebody eventually and somebody who was a lot bigger and stronger than him. Survival of the fittest and all. Now with the cut cleaned up he began to wrap the bandage around it. Bree didn't respond for a moment and she just shifted, watching him carefully wind the bandage around her palm where the deepest cut had been. The ones on her fingers had already started clotting, they'd probably be gone by the morning. "You really think we'd be that lucky?" she asked, looking up at him through her lashes. "Ain't ever been my experience." “I thought about it a couple times,” he admitted with a shrug. He hadn’t because they would be going against everything the pack stood for. “One of the many reasons I left.” Holding the bandages in place he freed up some tape and began to stick down the edges. Bree wet her lower lip and lifted her shoulder, rubbing her other hand against the side of her neck, pushing her hair out of her face with a sweeping motion. "I imagine it got real bad, did you- did he find out?" Wyatt shook his head as he finished up. “He had his suspicions but he never got names no matter how hard he pushed.” And he had pushed hard. Really hard. There’d even been silver involved. “Nobody talked but he knew that somebody in the pack must have helped so it became a living nightmare.” "I never wanted anyone else to get hurt," Bree said, drawing her hand back as he finished up, running her thumb along the neat bandaging. It was a lot cleaner than something she would have done herself, she had to admit. “I know.” That had never been in any doubt. “I don’t regret helping you and I know the others don’t.” He packed up what remained of the supplies and passed them back to Bree. Bree put the bag on the floor beside her boots and carefully unscrewed her drink again, taking a sip and closing her eyes, feeling the sea breeze washing over her skin. It had been quite a night, she had no idea how to even begin processing it. "So," she started, after silence had fallen between them for a moment, opening her eyes to look at Wyatt, holding his gaze. "What now?" Wyatt sat forward until he was hunched over his knees, hands laced together and head turned to meet Bree’s gaze. “Well if you aren’t running me out of town then I guess for me it’s job and then someplace to live.” He rubbed his palms together. “And just ‘cause I’m in the same town as you don’t mean you need to see me. I’m awful good at laying low when I need to.” It would suck but he’d understand. Painful reminders of the past were and should be optional. Bree didn't respond for a moment, thinking through what he'd said, the probability of them living in the same small town and not seeing each other was slim and it seemed unfair for him to have to watch where he went so that he didn't run into her. And she was tired of having to look over her shoulder all the time. If he was here, it was someone else she could go into AC with, for example, because she was sure Nissa was tired of babysitting her ass. She held the bottle loosely between her fingers as she broke eye contact and looked forward, mimicking his position. She let out a breath, took another swig of bourbon and placed the bottle on the bench between them. "'s that what you would want?" “Honestly?” Wyatt asked as he sought out eye contact. Bree resisted for a moment, but she turned her head when she could feel him looking at her. She drew her lower lip between her teeth and nodded her head, brow creased a little. "Not sure it'll do us good to start over if we lie to each other," she told him, voice barely above a whisper. Wyatt chuckled softly and nodded. “Mm, can’t argue with you there.” He inhaled and then used the exhale to work up his courage. “Wouldn’t be my preference no.” Bree felt something in her chest tighten a little and she nodded, releasing her grip on her lower lip and reaching for the bottle again. Whereas he was using breaths to pluck up the courage to speak, she was using liquor. Once white trash, always white trash. She only wished that there was more behind each swig than a burn down her throat. "So... you wanna," she gestured, "what, start over?" “Yeah, if that’s possible?” He didn’t know if it was but he’d never got a chance to know her before and he’d tried, he’d really tried. “Pretty the people we were before have nothing on who we are now so makes sense to start over. "My bein' around made your life kinda hell, and me leavin' made it worse," Bree pointed out, she knew that Wyatt had wanted to get to know her before, though she couldn't fathom why, "You sure you wanna go down that road?" She did, god, she did, just someone to talk to, someone who didn't have family or friends or other people that were more important. Just someone that she could- god, maybe that she could trust? Was that even the right word? Someone who knew her fucked up history and maybe still wanted to get to know her anyway? Wyatt sat back to rest his back into the bench, arm now stretching across the back of it. “Far as I see it? If something like that can happen and nothing is done about it then it wasn’t really a life worth living after all.” He smirked as he offered up a hand. “Hi, my name is Wyatt. Pleasure to meet you.” Bree hesitated for only a half second before she breathed out a soft laugh and felt her lips curl up into a genuine, soft smile. She ducked her eyes for a moment, pushed her hair back and then took the offered hand - with her uninjured one. "Bree," she replied, "and the pleasure's mine. |